Engraved Invitations
by misslucy21
Summary: What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?
1. Chapter 1

Engraved Invitations

Disclaimer: Anyone you recognize from the television belongs to the creators of CSI:Miami and themselves. Anyone you don't belongs to me.   
Feedback: Always!

* * *

Order of Operations: Blind Memory, The Edge of Darkness, All These Things, Thrill of Hope

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

If you would try you might decide to go,  
and you can do anything if you want to,  
and you can be all of that if you want to,  
and you can say anything,  
but you can't say I'm wrong,  
when you won't even listen

"Please Try to Understand," The Stereo

* * *

He was bent over the keyboard, typing furiously when he heard Calleigh come in behind him. "Hey, how's it going?" she asked.

He automatically flung a hand out to keep her quiet. "Gimme a minute," he muttered.

She didn't reply, but he knew she was still standing there. "Just gotta wrap…there," he said, sitting back after finishing the sentence he was writing. He scrolled up and read the last paragraph. "Whew," he sighed, spinning the chair around to face her. "Hi, sorry."

"No problem," she said, with a smile. "Have you been writing all day?"

"Most of it," he said, stretching his arms overhead. "But it's done!"

"Great!" she said. "Which one is this, the lab report?"

"No, the paper on Miranda-Escobedo," he replied. "There's some interesting stuff there that I didn't know about. Theory and whatnot. I only ever knew the practical stuff."

"Huh," she said. "I only know the practical stuff, too. Nothing more than they went over in the Academy."

"Yeah, I didn't think I'd like the legal stuff, but it's actually kinda interesting," he said. "Anyway, how was your day?"

"Good. Nothing exciting, until now," she said, holding up an envelope. "This came in the mail for you."

He frowned as he stood up to take it from her. "What's so exciting about it."

"I don't know," she shrugged. "But it looks important."

He looked down at the envelope. It was small, but his Trace experience told him the paper was semi-expensive. "Looks like an invitation of some kind," he mused. "Maybe my cousin's getting married? But Mom didn't mention anything. She usually keeps me up to date," he said, as he turned the envelope over. "Huh, that's weird."

"What's that?" she asked.

"That's my parents' address. It's a bit early for graduation announcements, right?" he said, slitting the envelope open.

"I think February is a tad early, yes," Calleigh replied. When he didn't answer, she said, "Tim?"

He blinked down at the card in his hand. "Yeah?"

"What's it say?" she prompted.

He laughed a moment and shook his head. "I don't believe him."

"What's it say?" Calleigh repeated.

"It's an actual engraved invitation," he laughed. "It says, _The presence of Timothy Daniel Speedle is graciously requested at the New York State Athletic Association Swimming Championships in Albany, New York, on the Fourth and Fifth of March, Two-thousand and Five. Sincerely, Matthew Robert Speedle"_

"Matt sent it?" she asked.

He nodded, and turned the card over, feeling something attached to the back. There was a note there that read: _Hey, Tim. It's looking really likely that I'm gonna make States. The District Meet is this weekend and I already beat my time for last year's Districts by about 6 seconds last weekend in the Sectionals. So we're pretty optimistic. It'd be really great if you could come up for the meet. If you just can't, I understand, totally. You don't even have to explain. But I'd really like you to get a chance to see me swim, since everything is up in the air yet for next year. Getting to States is going to change everything apparently. I don't even want to think about it- there's no offers yet, but that doesn't mean anything, they said. Calleigh can come too- the more the merrier. Well, you know how it is around here. Anyway, let us know! Even if something happens and I don't make it, it would still be great to see you. See ya, Matt._

"Are you going to go?" she asked, somewhat cautiously.

"I…don't know yet," he said, glancing up at her. "You're invited too, actually," he said, handing her the invitation and the note.

She glanced it over. "Well, that's really kind of sweet," she said, smiling. "If you want to go, I'd be happy to go with you."

"You're supposed to be going to Louisiana next week for your birthday, I thought," he said.

"I know, but I talked to Mom yesterday afternoon, and she said that she's going to be going to Baton Rouge because Marybeth's due to have her baby the day before my birthday. She wants to help with the kids, she said. So I'm not going to go right now. I'll see her in the summer, I guess," she said, shrugging. "I can probably move the weekend off to that weekend. It shouldn't be a problem."

"Well, don't do anything just yet," he said. "I don't know about this yet."

"Of course," Calleigh nodded. "I'm just saying, if you want to go, I'll go with you."

"Ok," he said. He laughed again. "I cannot believe he sent me an actual engraved invitation."

"That is pretty funny," Calleigh said.

"It's funnier if you know that the phrase 'what are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?' is a pretty common one in my family," he said, wryly.

"Matt thinks it's time you came home, then," she surmised.

"Yup," Tim nodded, more seriously. "I'll think about it."

"I think that's probably all that he's really asking, Tim," she said. "But it really might be good to go and have done with it, you know?"

"I know," he sighed. "All right. Anyway, what do you want for dinner?" he asked, changing the subject.

She raised her eyebrow at him, but went along with the conversation. "It's my turn to cook, isn't it?"

He shrugged. "Probably. There's soup in the freezer. We can make sandwiches to go with."

"What, you don't want to eat my cooking?" she joked.

He shook his head. "You made the soup, if I remember rightly."

"Ok, fair point," she agreed. "Soup and sandwiches it is, then. Come on out of here, if you've been holed up in here all day," she suggested as she left the room.

He trailed after her, considering the options of New York in early March.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

It's hard to argue when  
you won't stop making sense  
But my tongue still misbehaves and it  
keeps digging my own grave

"Hands Open," Snow Patrol

* * *

"So, what's up?" Andy asked as he sat down across from Tim. "What's new and exciting?"

Tim shrugged. "I dunno." He never knew how to begin these things. He knew it was frustrating for Andy, and it was a bit for him as well, but he just couldn't seem to ever just launch into things.

Andy sighed. "Sure you do. How's school?"

"Fine," he said.

"Have you decided if you're going to apply for the program?" Andy prodded.

"Yeah, if I can get Megan and Horatio to write me letters," he nodded. "I didn't think I'd like it, but I do."

"Good," Andy said, nodding firmly. "So the quarter ends at the end of March?"

"March 25th, yeah," he replied.

"So about another 5 weeks, then?" Andy asked.

"Yeah. I only have to sit one final, though. The other one is a paper," he said.

"Well, that's good," Andy said. "So, then, I've got a letter here from Dr. Barak saying that you have _finally_ been medically cleared to go back to work."

"Yeah?" he asked, blinking. "No one told me that."

"I imagine he wanted to save it until he knew if I'd clear you," Andy replied.

"Oh," Tim said. "Huh."

"So, what do you think? Do you feel ready to go back?" Andy asked.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "I miss my lab."

"Good. I'll work up a schedule for you, then and email it to you to take over to Lieutenant Caine," Andy said.

"Ok," he said, nodding. "Wow."

"I know," Andy said. "We're not done here, yet, though, you know?"

"Oh, I know," Tim replied.

"Just checking," Andy said. "And I'm only letting you go back two days a week until your quarter ends. Then we'll see about half time."

"That's fine," Tim said, agreeably.

"All right, then, that's settled. So what's still bugging you?" Andy asked, raising an eyebrow.

A wary look crossed Tim's face as he fidgeted with the cuff of his shirtsleeve. "What makes you say that?"

"Tim," Andy said, half-sternly. "Spill."

He sighed. "It's like this," he said. "Matt sent me an invitation to come to New York and see him swim in the state swim meet."

"Ah," Andy said. "When's the meet?"

"March 4th," he said.

"So? What's the problem?" Andy asked.

"I…don't know. It'd mean going to Syracuse," he said.

"And why is that a problem?" Andy asked.

"Because…because…" he trailed off. "Because." he said, finally, unable to articulate a reason.

"I see," Andy said, folding his hands in front of him. "You're afraid to go to Syracuse."

"No…yeah," he admitted.

"What do you think they're going to do to you there? String you up?" Andy asked.

"No," he replied, squirming.

"Are you afraid someone will yell at you?" Andy asked.

"I dunno," he replied.

"Are you afraid you'll get there and have a massive panic attack?" Andy pressed.

"Well, yeah," Tim admitted. "I mean…it's cold, there's snow, I haven't been home since…since everything happened."

"Tim, you have panic attacks in the middle of Miami all the time," Andy pointed out.

"Not all the time," he protested.

"No, ok, you're right. You don't have them all the time. Anymore. But you did. And you know what to do when they happen now, right? You worked hard on that, didn't you?" Andy prodded.

"Yeah," he admitted.

"Is Calleigh going to go with you?" Andy asked.

"She said she would. If she can change her weekend off," he nodded.

"Well, ok, then, what do you have to worry about? If something happens, Calleigh will be there, and she's not going to let anything bad happen to you. You know that, right?" Andy pointed out.

"I suppose," Tim admitted.

"So, go to Syracuse," Andy shrugged. "If you can handle going back to work, you can certainly handle going to New York for a couple of days. I'll make it so you don't start back to work until the 10th, and you'll have plenty of time to come home and rest before then."

"Are you _making _me?" Tim asked, warily.

"I hadn't thought to, but now that you mention it…" Andy said, thoughtfully. Tim groaned. "Seriously, Tim. If you don't want to go because you just don't want to do it, then don't. But if you don't want to go because you're being irrationally afraid of something that probably won't happen, then go."

"Some help you are," Tim grumped.

"Were you expecting me to tell you not to go?" Andy asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"I really do think it would be a good idea. Get that set of demons put to rest before we send you in to confront the other set," Andy said. "Calleigh will be there. Your parents will be there. You've got at least three people who know how to help if you need it. You can always call me if you need to, although I doubt you will. I think you can handle this."

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll think about it."

"Good enough," Andy said, knowing that was as much of a promise that Tim could give. "Let me know if you're going, ok?"

"I will," he sighed.

"All right, then. I'll email you the schedule and see you on Monday, ok?" Andy said.

"Yeah, all right," he sighed.

"Behave yourself," Andy said, bemusedly as they stood up to leave the room.

"I _am_ behaving," Tim muttered as he let Andy usher him out of the office.

An hour later, he slumped on the couch and regarded his cell phone. Sighing, he scrolled through the contacts list for a familiar number.

"Melissa Speedle," his mom answered.

"Hey, Mom," he said.

"Hi, love," she said, slightly warily. "Before you say anything, I had no idea what Matt was up to until after he sent it. I've already told him if he upset you unduly, I'm going to pound him."

He laughed. "No, it's fine. I thought it was funny. Did you know he sent me an actual engraved invitation?"

She chuckled. "I didn't, no. That _is_ rather amusing."

"I thought so," he agreed. "Anyway, I'm not mad."

"Good," his mom said. "I had hoped that would be the case." Neither of them said anything for a long moment. "Tim?" she asked.

"I'm thinking," he said.

"About?" she asked.

"If…and I'm only saying, _if_…if I were to come, could we make it so it wasn't a big thing?" he asked. "I mean, that wouldn't be very fair to Matt."

"Your intense dislike at being the center of attention notwithstanding," his mom replied dryly.

"Well, yeah, that too," he admitted.

He could hear her smile over the phone. "I think that could be arranged, yes."

"Ok," he replied. "You know he invited Calleigh, too?" He hoped she did. Or at least that she'd be all right with Calleigh coming, because there was no way in hell he was going to New York alone.

"I didn't, but it makes sense. She would be more than welcome, of course," his mom replied.

He was quiet a moment more, then sighed. "All right, all right."

"All right, what?" his mom asked.

"If Calleigh can get her weekend off switched, and if we can get reasonable plane tickets, we'll come," he sighed.

"Good," she said. "I didn't want to say anything, but I know it'll mean a lot to Matt."

"I know," he sighed. "Don't tell anyone just yet, ok? Don't tell Matt. Let me see about getting there and all that, and I'll call and tell him myself, ok?"

"I think that would be best, yes," his mom said.

"All right, then," he sighed. "I've got homework to do."

"Well, you'd best get that done," his mom said. "I'll talk to you later, sweetie."

"Ok, talk to you later," he replied. "Love you," he added.

"Love you, too." she said. "Bye."

"Bye," he said, hanging up the phone.

_What the hell did I just agree to do?_ he thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

So I must find my fears and face them  
Or I'll cower like a dog  
I'll kick and scream or kneel and bleed  
I'll fight like hell to hide that I'm giving up

"Another Travelin' Song," Bright Eyes

* * *

He sat in the car and stared at the building, dimly aware that he'd done the same thing nearly six months before in the rain. Sometimes he could hardly believe it had been that long. Sometimes he was all too aware of how long it had been. He hadn't seen the lab since he left with Eric to investigate the warehouse. Just before all hell had broken loose and his life had completely dissolved around him. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. _I don't have to go in there, yet,_ he thought. _I can mail the papers. Or ask Calleigh to take them in for me. _ But if he couldn't do it today, what made him think he could do it in two weeks?

"Speedle?" a familiar voice drifted through his open car window, making him jump. He looked up, his heart hammering, to find Frank Tripp standing next to his car. "Sorry, man."

"No, it's fine, I just didn't see you there," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"What're you up to?" Frank asked. "I didn't think you were back yet."

"I'm not, not yet," he replied, shaking his head. "I've got to drop some stuff off with Horatio."

"Oh," Frank said, nodding.

Neither man said anything for a long moment, then Tim sighed and opened the car door. _Might as well get on with it, now,_ he thought. He'd made the intention public, which meant he _had_ to go through with it. Tripp watched him, but didn't comment. Tim was vaguely aware that he was probably required by social conventions to say something small-talky now, but he was a bit tongue tied and not terribly good at small-talk to begin with.

"You look good, man," Frank said, breaking the uncertain silence to throw him something of a lifeline.

"Thanks," he replied, relieved that Frank had picked up the ball. "How have you been?" he asked.

"Oh, can't complain," Frank said, falling into step with him they started walking towards the lab.

"That's good," Tim said, nodding. They reached the doors to the lab, and he hesitated a minute, taking a deep breath that Frank pretended not to notice. "All right, then," he mumbled to himself as he reached out to open the door.

The entrance to the lab looked the same. He didn't know why he'd expected it to look different. Frank followed him to the reception desk, seeming to realize that he was a bit uncertain. Tina, the receptionist, looked up as they approached. "Oh, my God," she said, softly, her eyes widening as she caught sight of him.

"Hi, Tina," he said, hoping like hell she wouldn't make a scene about this.

"Hi, Speed," she said, smiling. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he said, nodding. "I've got something for H, is he in?"

"I think he said he'd be in his office, but let me call up and check," she said. "I'm sorry, I can't let you just go back and find him," she added, apologetically.

"No, no, I understand," he said, nodding. He reached for the visitor log sitting on the desk. "I'll sign in and all."

She smiled and turned away to place the call. Frank nodded. "Well, you take care. We'll see you soon?" he asked.

"Soon, yeah," he nodded. "The week of the 6th sometime, if everything goes through."

"Good," Frank said, firmly. "See you then," he added, as he walked away.

"Thanks, Frank," he replied.

Tina turned back to him. "He's up in his office, Speed. He says you can go on up."

"Great, thanks, Tina," he said, accepting the visitor badge from her with a smile.

"It's really good to see you," she said.

"It's good to see you too," he replied as he turned to walk to the elevators.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall of the elevator. _So far, so good,_ he thought. If he was lucky, he'd be able to just go see H and get out of here before people really knew he was there. He knew eventually he'd have to face all his coworkers, but that was perhaps more than he'd bargained for today. Walking into the building was enough. The hallway was deserted, another piece of good fortune. He knocked lightly on H's half open door as he poked his head around it.

"Come on in, Speed," Horatio said, smiling.

He slipped into the office and glanced around. Someone he didn't know was sitting in one of the visitor chairs. "Sorry, I didn't mean to…" he trailed off before he said _interrupt_, realizing suddenly how familiar the tableau was.

Horatio shook his head. "Not at all. You won't have met Jack yet," he said, as the other man stood up to offer his hand. "Jack Maret, Tim Speedle."

"Nice to meet you," Tim said, automatically as his manners took over.

"Likewise," Jack said. "I'm looking forward to working with you."

"Um, thanks," he said, unsure how to really reply to that.

"Jack, could you go let Sam know that I need him to take a closer look at those paint samples, and let Calleigh know I'll be down in a couple minutes to catch up with her?" Horatio asked.

"Sure, no problem," Jack said, nodding. "Good to meet you," he repeated to Tim as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Horatio smiled as he indicated a seat. "You all right?" he asked.

Tim nodded as he sat. "I think so, yeah."

"Good," Horatio replied. "I told Tina not to tell anyone you were here."

"Thank you," he said, relieved.

"I thought that might be more than you needed to deal with," Horatio nodded.

"A little, maybe," Tim admitted.

"So I hear you have papers for me?" Horatio asked. "Release papers, at that."

Tim smiled a little as he handed over the manila envelope in his hand. "Yeah."

"This is good news," Horatio said, opening the envelope and scanning the contents. "Very good news indeed."

"Thought you might like it," Tim said. "It's really part time at first."

"That's fine," Horatio said, shaking his head. "Believe me, easing you back in is all part of the plan. I will take as much of you as I can get."

"I figured," he nodded.

Horatio finished reading over the papers and set them aside. "Looks good to me. I'll pass them on to the Board and get that all taken care of. I don't expect any objections; your doctors have been really good about communicating with the Board."

"Ok, good," Tim said.

"Are you looking forward to it?" Horatio asked.

"Yeah, I am," he admitted. "It's been weird doing lab work for school. I keep expecting supplies and things to be in certain places, and obviously they're not. I miss my lab."

"Well, it misses you, I can tell you that," Horatio said, amusedly. "We tried to keep it in good order for you, but I won't be surprised if we didn't quite manage to put everything where it belongs."

He smiled at Horatio's half-joking tone. He knew his compulsiveness about how the lab was kept was well known. "I'll probably be days putting it back in shape," he replied.

"Probably," Horatio nodded. "You and Calleigh are going to Syracuse?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "On the third."

"Good," Horatio said. "I know she's looking forward to it. Matt's swimming in the State meet, she said."

"Yup," Tim said, proudly. "He'll be in two events, and he's got a good shot at placing in one of them."

"That's great," Horatio said. "Are you nervous about going?"

"A little," he admitted. "I haven't been back in twelve years. And it's winter. The timing isn't the best…"

"But it's good to go," Horatio pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," he sighed. "Anyway, don't be really surprised if we call you Monday morning and tell you we're snowed in. I guess it's been bad up there this year."

"You'll be fine," Horatio said. "Don't forget that it's pretty, too."

"Hmm?" he asked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You said that in North Carolina," Horatio explained. "You said you forgot how pretty the snow was."

"Oh," Tim said, squinting. He didn't remember that conversation at all. But then again, his memory of North Carolina was pretty patchy at best.

"So don't forget that, ok?" Horatio continued.

"I'll try," he promised.

"Good enough," Horatio asked. "All right, I have to get back to work."

"Hang on, can I ask you something first?" Tim asked.

"Of course. What's up?" Horatio replied.

"Can you…would you write me a letter? Of recommendation, I mean," he asked.

"For school?" Tim nodded. "Of course. When do you need it by?"

Tim smiled, relieved. "March 15. I can email you the forms."

"Sure thing," Horatio said. "You're applying for the program, then, I take it."

"Yeah. The application is kind of a formality, since they're accepting me regardless, they said. They're assigning me an advisor and everything when I go up there tomorrow. But they need to process all the forms anyway," he explained. "So I need a letter from you and Megan said she'd write one, too."

"Understandable," Horatio nodded. "How's Megan."

"Good," he nodded. "She likes Chicago."

"Good, I'm glad. Give her my best when you talk to her next, please?" Horatio said.

"I will," Tim agreed. "And thanks."

"You're welcome, Speed," Horatio said, standing up. "I'll see you later, then?"

"Yup," Tim agreed. "Would you ask Cal to call when she's on her way home because I'm going to just order pizza for dinner?"

"Sure," Horatio said.

"Thanks," he said, smiling. He let himself out of the office and went downstairs. No one accosted him on his way out of the building, much to his relief. _That wasn't so bad, was it?_ he thought. Maybe he really could do this again.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

Confusion never stops  
Closing walls and ticking clocks  
Gonna come back and take you home  
I could not stop that you now know singing

"Clocks", Coldplay

* * *

"Tim, come on, Alexx is going to be here in five minutes," Calleigh said, poking her head into the living room.

"I'm ready," he said, looking up at her with surprise.

"You don't have your shoes on," she sighed.

"Oh," he said, looking down to find that he was indeed in stocking feet.

"Tim," Calleigh said, slightly sternly. "Please tell me we are not doing this again."

He couldn't remember how many battles he and Calleigh had fought over his shoes. When everything had been so awful and painful that he couldn't stand it, he would refuse to put on his shoes so he didn't have to leave the house. She had proven to be almost as stubborn as he was. The memory made him flinch and he said, embarrassedly, "No, no, we're not. I swear. I meant to put them on and I just forgot, really." He got up from the couch and went to the bedroom to retrieve his shoes.

"Ok," she sighed, following him. She watched him put them on and asked, "Is there something I should know? I mean, that I don't already know?"

He shrugged. "What do you mean?"

"Tim," she sighed.

"I…haven't flown that much," he admitted.

"Ah," she said, looking enlightened. "Let me guess, you haven't flown since 9/11?"

"No," he admitted.

"And airplanes include at least two of the things you really dislike, don't they?" she asked. "Crowds and enclosed spaces?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'd have rather taken the train."

"We don't have time to take the train," she said, gently.

"I know," he said.

She thought a moment. "Well, ok. We'll put you in the window seat, that way I'm the only one sitting next to you and there aren't people trying to push past you. That should help, right?"

He nodded. "Maybe, yeah."

"And if all else fails, we've got Ativan, right?" she said.

"True," he admitted.

"Ok, then. I think we can handle the flying part," she said. A horn honked outside. "Come on, I'll tell you all about the security part while we're on the way. That'll help, too."

"Ok," he said, following her out of the house to Alexx's car.

Three hours later, they were in the air. Takeoff had been a bit unnerving, but he'd managed.

"So," Calleigh said, obviously trying to distract him from the fact that they were 30,000 feet in the air. "I get to see the restaurant?"

"Yes, definitely," he said, nodding.

"And the house you grew up in?" she asked.

"Not quite. I didn't so much grow up in a house as in a series of apartments. We'll be in the house my dad grew up in, though. My parents moved into my grandparents' house after my grandfather died, the winter I went to Columbia," he explained. "My grandmother couldn't manage the house on her own, so she moved into a retirement community, and Dad had first refusal on the house, since he's the oldest."

"I see," she said. "Tell me something. Your parents are awfully young, aren't they? They didn't seem to be hardly older than Horatio."

"No, they're older than H. Dad's 50, Mom is about to turn 50 in March, and Marianne will be 50 in April. They were all 19 when I was born, so I guess they were kinda young," he shrugged. "I wouldn't have guessed your parents would be much older than that, having met your dad, Cal."

"No, Daddy was 27 when I was born. Mama was…oh, 24, I think," she said. "They had to wait for Daddy to finish law school."

"Ah," Tim said. "My dad never did get to college. He was too busy making sure everyone else got to go."

"Marianne?" she asked. "I remember you saying she went to school after you came around."

"No, I don't think so. Well, maybe he did send her through, at that. He may well have, it's the sort of thing he'd do," he replied. "No, I meant Mom and his sibs. Papa- my grandfather- had a massive heart attack when I was about four. Dad had to take over the restaurant then because there wasn't anyone else. The rest of the kids too young- none of them had graduated high school yet, and the four youngest were still in grade school."

"The four youngest? How many are there?" she asked.

"Eight altogether, seven still living," he said. "Dad's the oldest."

"So, if he was only 19 when you were born, then some of your aunts and uncles must not be that much older than you," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"Nope. The youngest, Carrie, is only about four years older than me. And she's resented me the entire time," he said, with a wry smile. "I usurped her position as the baby, you see."

"Goodness," Calleigh said. "That's a bit…"

"Ridiculous?" he asked. "Yeah, it is. Who knows, she might have mellowed out now that she's got two or three kids of her own. I may be pleasantly surprised, although I'm not going to hold my breath."

"That sounds like a really large family," she said. "Are any of them going to be there?"

He laughed. "All of them. Well, except maybe my Uncle Chris- he's a priest in Rochester, I think. And I think a couple of my oldest cousins might be away at college, although I think at least one of them goes to Syracuse."

"They all live in Syracuse?" she asked, surprised.

"Yup. I may well be the only one who's left, permanently. My cousin Jennifer went down to Binghamton to go to school, but I think she moved back when she graduated last summer," he said. "Most of the kids are younger than Matt- he's kind of the youngest of the older set- so they're all mostly still in grade school, yet."

"And you're the oldest," she said.

"By far. Jennifer is the next oldest, and she's 22 or 23," he said. "I told you, everyone else went to college. And Janie is six years younger than Dad."

"Right," she said. "I can see why you told your mom you didn't want to make a big deal of anything."

"There's certainly enough people to make a big deal with," he agreed. "Although, I haven't met any of the cousins who are under 12. Which is something like half of them, I think."

"Ah," Calleigh said. "And now I know partly why you're so nervous." He smiled, sheepishly. She knew he didn't like meeting new people. "Tim, they're little kids. They're not going to care."

"I know," he said.

She reached over and squeezed his hand. "I'll protect you," she joked.

"Yes, you will. Why do you think I brought you along?" he replied, with a smile. "Fresh blood."

She laughed. "Oh, I see! You're going to throw me to the sharks and go hide in a corner?"

"That was the plan," he said, only half-jokingly.

She shook her head. "All right, all right. I'll be your fall guy. But someday I'm going to drag you along when my mom visits and use you as camouflage," she threatened.

"Gladly," he said. "I owe you."

She smiled. "Of course," she said, lightly.

The flight attendant interrupted them with drinks and pretzels, another good distraction. He glanced at his watch. 45 minutes until they landed in DC. Then an hour between flights and another hour and a half until they finally got to Syracuse. So, they were about a third of the way there. He leaned his head back, tiredly. _I hate traveling_, he thought. _It would be so much better if we could just be there already. _


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

AN: I'm posting Chapters 5 and 6 together, because I really think they ought to be read together. They were originally one chapter, but it was a bit unwieldy, so I cut it in half.

* * *

A feeling inside in the back of my head  
Like a song you still know from so long ago  
And I wouldn't change a thing  
Like a car driving by triggers something in my mind  
Am I retrieving my direction or just charging forward blind?  
Am I everything that you wanted me to be?  
Have I lost that condition, a connection I couldn't see?  
"World Full of Hate," Dropkick Murphys

* * *

"Damnit," Tim said, frowning at the signs above the freeway.

"What?" Calleigh asked.

"This didn't used to be here," he muttered, squinting ahead to figure out where the hell they were going.

"The interchange?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"Should we maybe call your parents?" she asked.

"I'm not lost," he insisted.

"Ok," she said, sounding none too sure of that.

"I'm not," he said. "You can't get too lost if you follow the signs for the university."

"Shouldn't we have called your parents regardless? Like when we landed?" she asked.

"It was the middle of the lunch rush, I wasn't going to pull someone away to answer the phone," he said, absently as he chewed his bottom lip. "And Mom wasn't in her office. I called while you were in the restroom."

"Oh," she said.

"Ah, there's the damn…" he muttered, as he merged over to get in the lane for the second exit.

"Better?" she asked, as they got off the highway.

"Yeah," he said.

"Where are we going?" she asked, looking around at the surrounding neighborhoods.

"The restaurant. No one's going to be home for hours," he replied. "Dad's there, Mom's at work, and Matt is probably on his way to Albany."

"Good point," she said. "Good, I'm hungry."

"They'll feed us, don't worry about that," he said. "We're almost there." They drove past the university and down into a more residential neighborhood surrounding it. "There," he said, pointing at a small building on the corner of the next block.

"It's smaller than I imagined," she said.

"Doesn't need to be big," he replied, as he turned into the parking lot.

"RJ and Betsy's Diner", she read. "Are those your grandparents?"

"Great-grandparents," he said. "It used to be a speakeasy."

"Seriously?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"Yup," he nodded. "It kind of evolved into more of a restaurant after Prohibition was lifted."

"Wow," she said, as she pulled on her gloves and wrapped the scarf around her neck tighter.

"Cal, we're walking barely fifty feet from here to that door," he said, amusedly.

"It's cold," she said.

"I told you it would be," he said.

"I kind of thought you might be exaggerating," she admitted in a small voice.

He laughed. "No, no, not exaggerating."

"Yeah, I get that now," she said with a sigh.

"Come on," he said, shaking his head. "It'll be warm inside and I'm sure we can get something hot for you to drink."

"Brr", she said as they tumbled through the door.

He grinned. He was freezing too, of course, but was certainly not going to admit it to her. Or anyone else for that matter, since he knew full well it would open himself up to cracks about thin blood and forgetting one's roots.

The woman at the front counter glanced up and said "I'll be with you in a…Timothy Daniel Speedle!"

"Hi, Shelly," he said, smiling sheepishly.

"What the…when did…your father said nothing! Not a word!" she said, coming around the counter to hug him.

"I came to see Matt swim. I didn't want it to be a big thing; it wouldn't be fair to him," he explained.

"Well, goodness," she said. "I'll go tell your dad you're here, go on and sit in the back," she said, waving them towards the dining area.

"I'd guess she's your aunt, but she looks older than your dad," Calleigh said as he led her back into the dining area.

"No, she's not related, although she might as well be family," he said. "She's been here at the restaurant for probably forty years. She runs the floor for Dad during the day- Mom does it at night."

"Oh," Calleigh said.

"Here," he gestured at a booth. "Family booth- we don't seat customers here, unless it's really crazy." It was probably the worst seat in the restaurant, by the restrooms and the kitchen, which is why only family sat there. There was a bin of silverware and a stack of napkins on the table, and his hands automatically reached out to start rolling the silverware as they slid in the booth. Calleigh watched with bemusement, but didn't say anything. It was all habit, the sitting down at the table and the way the silverware shuffled together in his hands and how the napkin folded around them. It had been one of his chores from the time he was four and old enough to do it without dropping the silverware on the floor all the time. Some kids learned to set the table. He learned to roll silverware.

"Apparently, you can take the boy out of the restaurant, but you can't take the restaurant out of boy," his dad said, laughing as he walked up to the table.

Tim grinned up at him. "Guess not," he said, as he finished a set and stood up to hug his father.

"You look good, Little Man," his dad said, squeezing him tight before releasing him to sit back down. Then he turned to Calleigh and said, "Hi, Calleigh. So, what do you think of the weather? We ordered up some snow just for you," he said, as he waved her up to accept a hug for herself.

She laughed as she sat back down. "There's certainly a lot of it!"

"That there is," Shelly said, coming toward the table. "I'm sorry, I don't know where my manners were before. I'm Shelly Howard."

"Shelly, this is my friend Calleigh Duquesne," Tim said, remembering his own manners.

"Hi, Calleigh, it's nice to meet you," Shelly said, shaking her hand. "Can I get you guys something to drink? You want some coffee?"

"Nice to meet you, too," Calleigh said. "I would love some coffee."

"Ok, I'll bring you both out some," she said.

"Wait…!" Tim tried to call her back, but failed. "…no coffee," he sighed.

"No problem, sit, I'll tell her to get something else for you," his dad said. "I'd better grab Calleigh a menu, too. I imagine you guys are hungry," he added as he walked away.

"See, told you we'd get fed," he said, as his hands turned back to the silverware.

"How do you do it so fast," Calleigh asked after a moment.

"Lots and lots of practice," he shrugged. "I used to do this after school every day when I was little. Well, before then, really, but I wasn't any good at it until I got a little bit older."

She reached out to grab some silverware and copy his movements. "It's harder than it looks," she said.

He was about to answer when a familiar voice said, "Well, there's a sight for sore eyes."

He looked up and found his Aunt Janie standing next to the booth. "Hi, Aunt Janie."

"Come here, maddening child, and give me a hug," she said, smiling. He got up and complied. "Goodness, you got taller."

"A little bit," he said, shyly. "Aunt Janie, this is my friend, Calleigh Duquesne. Cal, this is my dad's oldest sister, Janie Mitchell."

"So nice to meet you," Janie said, smiling at Calleigh. "Melissa told us all about you."

"Thank you," Calleigh said. "It's nice to meet Tim's family."

"Oh, you'll probably get to meet everyone at dinner on Sunday, if you guys get back in time from Albany," she said, sitting down where Tim had been sitting. He slid in next to Calleigh.

"Scoot, Janie," his dad said, returning to the table with a cup of coffee and a menu for Calleigh and a cup of tea for Tim.

"Thanks, Dad," Tim said, dunking the tea bag into the water.

"You're welcome," his dad said, sliding in next to his sister. "What do you want for lunch?"

Tim shrugged. "Whatever the special is."

"No problem. You want soup and salad, Janie?" he asked.

"Please," Janie replied.

"Ok, that leaves you, Calleigh," his dad said. "We don't have the dinner specials on yet, but anything else is fine."

Calleigh smiled as she opened the menu. "You have all day breakfast?"

"Of course," all three Speedles chorused. "What the hell good is a restaurant if you can't get breakfast all day?" his dad added.

Calleigh laughed as she looked down at the menu. Tim peeked over her shoulder to see if there was anything new. The whole grain berry pancakes caught his eye, and he was about to change his mind about his lunch order, but then noticed that the lunch special was the tuna patty melt with vegetable barley soup, which was one of his favorites, so he just filed it away for a future meal. "The apple pancakes are really good," he suggested.

"I don't know that I've ever had apple pancakes before," she said.

"Oh, then you should really try them," Janie said.

"All right, then," she said.

"You really ought to get the Canadian bacon with them," his dad said.

"Sounds good," she said.

"All right, I'll be right back," his dad said.

"So, I'm told we're not to make a fuss about you," Janie said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"It's Matt's weekend. It wouldn't be fair to him," Tim replied automatically. He had a feeling he'd be saying that frequently over the next couple of days.

"I know. I just think you're underestimating our ability to make a fuss about both of you," Janie teased.

He froze in the process of picking up silverware and stared up at her. "Aunt Janie…" he started.

"I'm kidding, Tim. Really," she replied, and he relaxed. "You specifically asked us not to. Would we do that to you?"

"Yes," he said, seriously.

"Not if your mom was the one who relayed the request and accompanied it with a threat to pound anyone who didn't comply with it. We all learned a long, long, _long_ time ago not to cross Melissa when it comes to her boys," Janie said.

"Good," Tim said.

"So, tell me, Calleigh, are you from Miami?" Janie asked, sensing that changing the subject would probably be wise.

"Oh, no, I'm not. I'm from Louisiana," Calleigh said, smiling brightly.

"New Orleans?" Janie asked.

"No, but I lived there awhile. I went to Tulane and then worked for the New Orleans PD," she explained.

"It's a lovely city. That's where Rich and I went on our honeymoon," Janie said. "Have you been there, Tim?"

He thought a moment. "I don't think so," he said, finally.

"Haven't you?" Calleigh asked, frowning. "I thought you had."

"I think Atlanta, Memphis and, um, Charlotte are the only big Southern cities I've been to, outside of Miami," he said, trying to remember. "I don't remember New Orleans."

"Oh, you'd remember," Janie said. "It's really an unforgettable place."

He shrugged. "I guess not, then." He may well have been, but he honestly did not remember all the places he'd been during that time he'd lost.

"We'll have to rectify that, sometime, then," Calleigh said. "I think you'd like it. Well, I don't think you'd like Bourbon Street, but you'd probably like the French Quarter. And you'd definitely like the food."

"Speaking of which, lunch is up," his dad said, balancing a tray as he approached the table. "Here you go!" He distributed the plates and they shoved the silverware aside to eat.

Nothing was said for several minutes, until Calleigh turned to him and said, "You were right."

"Of course I was right," he said, raising an eyebrow at her. "You expected me to steer you wrong in my father's own restaurant?"

"No, of course not. I was just telling you that you were right," she shrugged.

Danny chuckled. "So, Matt's in Albany already, he called not long before you two showed up. We're taking the late train tonight, so we don't have to worry about scrambling to get there in the morning. Is that ok?"

"Fine," Tim said.

"Is it really far?" Calleigh asked.

Danny shrugged. "About four hours or so. The train leaves at 11, so we'll get in around 2 or so, but there's usually plenty of room to spread out and sleep on the way."

"Oh, no, that's fine, I was just curious," Calleigh said.

"Ok. Melissa is going to be working late, because she'll be gone tomorrow. Did you two have anything planned for the afternoon?" he asked.

Tim shrugged. "I'd…I thought I might take Cal around a bit. There's some people I maybe should look up," he said, hesitantly.

"Absolutely," his dad said, calmly. "Go on and do whatever. You can come back here for dinner or you can go home, whichever you prefer. I'll be here until 7 or so, though, so don't wait for me if you decide you're ready to eat."

"Ok, we won't," Tim said.

"Sounds good, then. Call if you need anything, all right? We're gonna get back to work," his dad said, as Janie nodded agreement.

"Sure," Tim said. "See you later."

"Thanks for lunch," Calleigh said.

"Not a problem," his dad said. "Glad you enjoyed it."

He and Calleigh looked at each other for a long moment after his dad and his aunt disappeared back into the kitchen. "So," she said.

"So," he replied. She rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, I know. You ready to brave the cold?"

"If I must," she said, sighing theatrically.

"Oh, come on," he said, rolling his eyes. She laughed and followed him out of the restaurant.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

As the years pass us by, will I still make the grade  
Can I really offer anything, and will my soul be saved  
Can you cleanse me of...drive out the swine  
Am I only falling farther, can you keep me safe from harm  
The memories you build in the house on a hill  
Would you really change a thing?  
Corrected mistakes in a world full of hate  
Never changes anything

"World Full of Hate", Dropkick Murphys

* * *

"Where are we going?" Calleigh asked as they pulled out of the parking lot.

He licked his lips, which were already chapping. They'd have to stop off at a drug store and get some Blistex, he'd forgotten about that. "I think the university. There's someone I want to see if I can find there."

"Ah," she said. "What else is there to see around here?"

He shrugged. "There's an art museum. And the mall. Speaking of which, now that you're here and you know how cold it is, are you warm enough? Do you want to see if we can find warmer stuff for you?"

"I think I'm ok," she said. "I'm glad you made me get those sweaters now, though."

"I knew you would be," he said. "Well, if you do get too cold, let me know, because we can either go buy something heavier, or if not, I'm sure _someone_ will have something you can borrow. And tomorrow you'll probably feel right at home in the natatorium. If I remember right, it tends to be nice and hot and humid at swim meets."

"I can imagine," she said. "No, I think I'm warm enough for now. If I get too cold, I'll tell you."

"Good," he said.

"What about you? How are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm ok," he said.

"Not too cold?" she asked.

"Nope," he said, not entirely truthfully.

"Ok," she said.

They pulled into a parking lot at the university and parked. "I think this is still the closest lot."

"Ok," Calleigh said. They stopped and paid the parking before trudging off towards a cluster of buildings.

"Careful, watch the ice," he said, warning her. "They've salted, but it's still slick."

"Got it," she said, holding her hands out for balance as they crossed over an uncleared area of pavement. "I see what you mean about North Carolina not being very bad, now."

He laughed a bit, and reached out to grab her arm to guide her around the worst of the ice. "We're almost there."

"Ok," she said, her breath steaming in the cold. She laughed, suddenly. "That's so cool," she said. "Literally. Is it supposed to burn, though?"

He nodded. "Pull your scarf up over your mouth. It'll help."

She nodded as she did so. "That is a bit better."

"Good," he said. "It's not usually quite this cold still, but it's not been a normal winter, from what I hear."

"I'd wondered if all this snow was normal," she said as they went into a building.

"The snow is, mostly, yes. It does usually start to get a bit thawed out around now, though. Not warm, exactly, although it feels like it after January and February," he said as he scanned a building directory in the lobby. "Good, I was right." He led her to the elevator and hit the button for the third floor.

The elevator deposited them onto a floor that was already quiet in preparation for the upcoming weekend. They walked down a hallway and he stopped outside of what appeared to be a departmental office and ran his finger down a list of offices and office hours. He nodded. "He should be there, then," he muttered as he reoriented himself to the layout of the offices. "Down that way," he said to Calleigh, who just nodded silently.

They walked down a dim hallway towards an open door at the end. Tim paused before they reached the doorway, hearing voices inside. Calleigh stopped next to him.

"Ok, Laurie, will that do you for now?" a patient sounding male voice asked.

"I think so, Dr. Mackey. Thanks so much," a younger woman's voice answered.

"Good. Oh, and if those boys start harassing you again, you come tell me, you hear? It's not tattling to report that sort of thing. It's fighting back using all your resources, and it doesn't make you any less of a woman or an engineer, ok?" the man replied.

"All right," the woman replied. "I will, promise."

"Good. Go enjoy your weekend. Don't work too hard," the man admonished as the young woman slipped out the door and down the hallway past Tim and Calleigh. Tim approached the door and heard the man mumbling to himself as he looked past the door. "Damn undergraduate boys, no sense of propriety…" The man trailed off as he looked up and saw Tim in the doorway. "In their heads at all," he finished in a shocked voice as he stared at Tim.

"Hi, George," Tim said, shakily, clenching his hands in his pockets.

George didn't say anything for a long moment. "Well," he said, finally. "I see you haven't grown out of the habit of giving the adults around you heart attacks."

Tim laughed. "I guess not."

George seemed to shake off the shock. "Come in, come in, no, wait, Lisa will absolutely kill me if she finds out I didn't bring you to her immediately," he said, as he stood up. "Let me get my coat, she ought to be home by now."

Tim stepped back into the hallway next to Calleigh as George grabbed his coat and bag from the back of the door. "Sure."

"Ah, you've brought someone with you," George said, as he locked up his office and stuck a post-it note directing people to contact him by email if they needed him.

"I did," Tim replied. "This is my friend Calleigh Duquesne. Calleigh, this is George Mackey. Jason's father."

"Oh!" Calleigh said, suddenly understanding why they were there. "Hello."

"It's nice to meet you, Calleigh," George said, shaking her hand. "Ok, let me just tell Rachelle that I'm out of here, and we can get going," he said, leading them back down the hall to the departmental office. He opened the door and poked his head in. "Rachelle, I'm gone, ok? If anyone's looking for me, tell them to email me, I'll be checking tonight, all right?"

They couldn't hear Rachelle's reply, but it must have been in the affirmative, because George turned towards the elevator. "So, Tim, what brings you home?"

"I came to see Matt swim," he replied.

"Ah! Of course, that's right. That's tomorrow, isn't it?" George asked as they got in the elevator.

"Yeah, we're taking the late train to Albany tonight," Tim replied.

"Good, good," George said. "Did you drive over here?"

"Yeah, we did," Tim nodded.

"I walked today, so if you wouldn't mind?" George said, waving towards the parking lot.

"No, of course not," Tim said.

"You must live close," Calleigh said, eyes widening at the fact that anyone would walk to work in this weather.

"Oh, it's only about five blocks. Not really worth clearing the car off for," George shrugged.

Calleigh shook her head as they approached the car. "I don't know if I can imagine being so used to the cold."

"Ah, yes, but I imagine you're a lot more used to heat and humidity," George replied, climbing into the car. "It doesn't really get that hot here."

"So I've been told by Tim," she replied. "Who hates air conditioning."

"It's cold," he said, vaguely. "I don't like being cold."

"Yes, I know," she sighed.

George laughed. "Well, can you blame the boy? He's always been so skinny, the wind just blows right through him."

"There is that," Calleigh allowed as they made their way down a snowy street near the university.

"It looks just the same," Tim said softly, as he pulled into a driveway a few blocks from campus.

"No, we haven't changed much," George said. "Got cable, finally, though."

Tim grinned. "Caved, did she?"

"Eh, when all the good stuff started being non-network, she finally relented," George said, getting out of the car. "Plus, the university said they'd subsidize the cable modem so I can be connected at home, so it just made sense to get the TV discount too."

George led them up the steps to the side door. "Lisa?" he called as he opened the door.

"I'm upstairs," she called back.

"Come on down here," he yelled, stripping off his snow boots before stepping fully into the kitchen.

"I've got my hands full, George. Come up here and quit yelling," Lisa yelled.

"No, Leese, you're really going to want to come down here," George said, winking at them as he disappeared into the rest of the house to coax his wife downstairs.

Tim and Calleigh had just divested themselves of their coats and shoes when a small blonde woman came flying into the kitchen. "Oh, my word," she said, stopping short when she saw them. "Look at you, you're all grown up," she said, her voice catching.

"Hi, Lisa," Tim said, blinking back tears of his own.

"Oh, my, how grown you are," she said, launching herself forward to hug him tightly. "Not the baby anymore," she whispered. He let her hold him at arms length, and look him over. "Oh, sweetie," she whispered, wiping her eyes. "It's so very good to see you."

"It's good to see you too," he said, taking a deep breath.

"Where are my manners?" she exclaimed, looking past him to see Calleigh still standing in the entryway. She let go of Tim and walked towards Calleigh with a hand outstretched. "I'm so sorry, I'm Lisa Mackey," she said, with a bit of a laugh as she shook Calleigh's hand.

"This is my friend Calleigh Duquesne," Tim said, stepping out of the way to let Calleigh fully into the kitchen.

"It's nice to meet you," Calleigh said.

"Oh, likewise, dear. It's nice to meet one of Tim's friends," she said. "I'm pretty much his third Mom, and you know how moms like to know their kids' friends."

Calleigh laughed. "I know. Somehow I'm not surprised that he has three moms."

Tim rolled his eyes as Lisa laughed. "We used to joke that God put so many parents in Tim's life because He knew that there was no way that just two people could possibly handle the job. It certainly took a village to raise him and Jason, that's for sure," she said. "I imagine he's accumulated more than three by now."

"Oh yes," Calleigh said. "Our friend Alexx definitely claims him as hers."

"Good," Lisa said. "I'm glad. Come in, come in, let me get some hot chocolate on the stove," she said waving them towards the kitchen table. "Your parents didn't say a word to me!"

"Yeah, I know. I asked them not to make a big deal, since it wouldn't be fair to Matt. I think they wanted to see how I'd feel, so they didn't tell you, in case I wasn't…up to things," he said, embarrassedly.

"Ah," George said, understandingly. "I'm glad you were."

"Me too," Lisa said.

"I figured," he said, running his hand over his head, nervously. "Anyway, so that's why they didn't say anything."

"Matt must be thrilled," Lisa said, sitting down across from them.

"I hope so," Tim said. "He's in Albany already."

"Did he know you were coming?" Lisa asked.

"Yeah, he invited me," Tim nodded.

"He's a good kid," George said.

"I know," Tim replied. "I'm happy he's done so well."

"We are, too. That reminds me, I've got something for him that you can take. I was just going to drop it off at the restaurant this afternoon, but now that you're here, you can save me the trip," Lisa said.

"No problem," Tim said. "How's Katie?"

"Katie's great," George replied. "She got married about two years ago, and they're expecting their first baby here in a couple of months. They live up in Rochester, but we get to see them once a month or so."

"Good," he said. "I'm glad she's well."

"She'll be happy to hear you were in Syracuse, although she'll be sad she missed you," Lisa said, setting mugs of hot chocolate in front of everyone. "So, Calleigh, tell me about yourself," she asked, sitting back down at the table.

Calleigh laughed a bit. "Well, I'm from Louisiana, but I moved to Miami about five years ago. I'm a CSI, like Tim, and I do ballistics."

"Do you like that?" George asked.

"I love it," she said, grinning. "It's fun, although it can be really hard, too."

"I can imagine," Lisa said. "That's exciting, though. So you two met at work?"

"Uh, yeah," Tim said, realizing suddenly that Lisa thought he and Calleigh were _together_. He had no idea how to correct this notion without it being awfully awkward.

"Yeah, we've been working together for about five years now. Tim does some really great stuff in the Trace lab," Calleigh said, smoothly, giving no indication that she'd either caught Lisa's drift or that she minded if she had.

"I thought your mom told me you were still off work, now?" George asked.

"I was. I am," Tim said, shaking his head. "I go back middle of next week."

"Oh, fabulous," Lisa said. "You must be doing much better, then."

He nodded. "Yeah, mostly."

"Wonderful," Lisa said. "We were really very worried about you. It was a bit scary when we heard. But your parents said you were doing better at Christmas, so that was a relief."

"Yeah," he nodded, unsure of what else to say.

Everyone looked at each other slightly awkwardly. Tim finished his hot chocolate, and saw that Calleigh had done likewise. He shot her a helpless glance that he hoped wasn't completely obvious. Small talk was not his specialty.

"Tim, what time did you say you were going to meet your mom?" she asked, giving him an out.

He glanced at his watch. It was 2:15. "Um, around 2:30," he answered.

"Oh, I didn't mean to keep you," Lisa said.

"No, no, it was good to see you," Tim said, shaking his head. _I'm just ready to go now_, he thought.

"Well, you tell your mom that she's provisionally forgiven for not telling us you'd be in town," Lisa said. "Let me go get the thing I have for Matt."

George smiled. "It was great to see you, Tim. Don't take so long, next time, huh?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I won't."

"Good," George said, pushing away from the table. "It was lovely to meet you, Calleigh. Keep him in line, would you?"

"Always," Calleigh said, with a smile. "It was great to meet you, too."

"See you both later, then," George said. "I should really get some grading done."

"Bye," Tim said, standing up as Lisa came into the room with a small bag.

"Just a treat for all the waiting," she said, handing him the bag. "It was so good to see you, sweetie."

"It was good to see you too," he repeated, as she hugged him. "Thanks for the hot chocolate."

"Oh, anytime, anytime," she said, leading them back to the door and waiting for them to get their winter gear back on. "You be careful, now."

"We will," Tim said.

"Nice to have met you," Calleigh added.

"Likewise, dear. See you soon, I hope," Lisa said as they walked down the steps to the car.

"I suppose I'd better call Mom and tell her she's meeting me at 2:30 for some reason," he said, quietly, as they got in the car.

"You looked ready to leave," Calleigh shrugged. "Best I could do on short notice."

"No, really, thanks," he said. "I didn't know what to say."

"Understandable," Calleigh nodded as they pulled away. "I didn't want you getting worked up, though."

"No…" he said. "I'm ok, I think."

"Good," she said. "I'm proud of you," she added.

"What?" he asked. "Why?"

"You made the effort," she said, with a smile. "And that's the thing that's the most important to them, I think. It's what's most important to everyone here, I think, from what I can tell."

"Oh," he said, blushing slightly. "Ok."

She laughed a bit. "Call your mom. And you know, if you wanted to just go to your parents' house and take a nap, I'd be plenty fine with that."

"That does sound good," he said, feeling a bit relieved that she'd suggested it. "Let's just do that."

"It's a plan," Calleigh said, as he dug his cell phone out of his pocket to call his mother.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

* * *

I just want you to understand  
That I know what all the fighting was for  
And I just want you to understand  
That I'm not angry anymore  
I'm not angry anymore

"Angry Anymore", Ani DiFranco

* * *

"Thanks for picking me up," Matt said, smiling tiredly as they pulled up outside of the house.

"No problem," Tim said.

"Good Lord," Calleigh said as she looked around at all the cars. "Did they invite the Chinese Army?"

Matt laughed. "No, it's just the family. We take up this much space all the time. You get used to it."

"Have you guys had to move to a second pew at Mass yet?" Tim asked as they got out of the car.

"Not quite yet, since Kelly and Sara are away at school. But the babies are really starting to get big and there's a couple cousins who are getting too old for the Kid's Liturgy and if Jen marries the guy she's seeing and they stick around, we might have to. It's starting to get a bit crowded," Matt replied as he opened the door. "Hey, we're home!", he yelled.

"Matthew! How's my guy?" a tall man wearing a clerical collar asked, jumping up from the chair he'd been sitting in.

"Hey, Uncle Chris!" Matt exclaimed. "I didn't know you were coming out."

"I couldn't manage to make the meet, but they let me slip away for the party, which is the more important part anyway," Chris replied. "They tell me you did great!"

Matt shed his jacket and held up the medal he still had around his neck. "Second place!"

"Atta boy!" Chris said. He glanced beyond Matt and said, "Well, look who's here!"

"Hi, Uncle Chris," Tim said, shyly.

"Well, hello there, Timothy," Chris said, smiling. "How've you been?"

"Oh, all right," Tim said. He was never exactly sure how to answer that question. Especially right now.

"Ah!" his mom said, coming into the room. "There you are! Matt, take your bag and go up and tell your dad you're home, he's up showing off something in the study to Kevin and Bryan," she directed. A loud squall caught their attention. His mom sighed and said, "Christopher, make yourself useful and find out what's going on down there, would you please? Calleigh, come on with me, I'll get you introduced around," she said, with a wink at Tim.

"Yes ma'am," Chris said, heading for the basement stairs. Matt headed up the stairs to drop his bag and find his dad. Calleigh shrugged at Tim and followed Melissa into the kitchen, leaving Tim standing in the living room by himself. The house was full of noise and people, but the living room was quiet for the moment. He pulled his coat off and turned around and noticed someone sitting in the rocking chair next to where Chris had been sitting when they walked in.

"Hello, Nana," he said, gently, walking over and kneeling down in front of the chair. He wasn't quite sure what to expect. He knew she'd had a stroke a few years previously, but he wasn't entirely clear as to the extent of how it had affected her.

The older woman smiled at him, recognizing him instantly. "My Timothy," she said, reaching out to touch his face. He tried not to wince away as she traced the scar on his jaw. "So beautiful, my Timothy," she said. "You have come home?"

"Just for a visit," he said. "I came to see Matt swim."

"Good. He is good," she said. "I am glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you too, Nana," he said, softly.

"Nana! Nana!" a chorus of voices sounded behind him, and he moved back to allow the smaller children a chance to hug their grandmother. She was instantly involved with them, and he climbed to his feet and moved away, drifting down the hall to the TV room.

"Oh, Tim, it's great to see you," someone he didn't quite recognize said, grabbing his arm in the hallway and shoving a baby at him. "Could you just hold her a moment, for me? I've got to take care of something in the kitchen." She was gone in a whirlwind, leaving him with the baby before he could even acknowledge that she'd said anything, let alone protested it.

He sighed and looked down at the baby. She snuggled into his arms and giggled up at him. "Well, I guess you don't forget how to hold babies, either," he said, hefting her into a more comfortable position. "I'm your cousin Tim, I suppose." The baby didn't answer, not that he had expected her to, since she didn't seem to be more than 6 months old. Shrugging, he continued down the hall and sat down on the couch in the TV room. Kids ran through laughing and yelling, and every so often he heard and adult admonish someone for not looking where they were going. There was a brightly colored baby toy on the coffee table and he gave it to the baby in his lap, who certainly seemed to know what to do with it.

"There you are," Matt said, coming into the room and plopping down on the couch next to him. "Hiding?"

Tim shrugged. "Holding a baby for someone. I don't suppose you know who I've got here?"

"That's Molly. Bryan and Sophie's youngest," Matt said, reaching out to poke at the toy and make it squeal, much to Molly's delight.

"That was Sophie?" he said, blinking. "I didn't even recognize her."

"Well, given that you last saw her when she was maybe 25, I'd say that's somewhat reasonable. I imagine it's harder to recognize the various spouses," Matt mused.

"I guess," Tim said. "I don't remember you being born, sweetie," he said to the baby in his lap.

"Last October," Matt said. "From what I understand, you weren't in much condition to be paying attention."

"Not exactly, no," he admitted. "What's she make, five?"

"Yup. Bryan seems to be trying to carry on the family tradition," Matt nodded. "Someone has to, I guess. I think I'm glad Mom and Dad didn't."

"Yeah," Tim said, not mentioning the fact that they might well have tried, and just couldn't.

"Matt, Matt," a small whirlwind of pigtails shrieked as she ran towards them, hugging Matt's legs.

"Hey there, squirt," Matt said, ruffling her hair.

"Airplane? Please?" she said.

"Oooh, baby, no. Not today. I'm sorry, baby, I just can't pick you up today. My legs and my tummy are too sore," Matt replied. "I'll do it for you next time, ok? I promise."

"Matt's got a boo-boo?" she asked.

"Yeah, you could say that," he said, nodding.

"I kiss and make better," she said, kissing his legs and scrambling up to plant another kiss on his stomach. "All better?" she asked.

"Much better, yes, but I still can't do the airplane for you tonight, ok?" he said.

"Ok," she said, disappointed. She noticed Tim. "Hi!"

"Hi, there," Tim said.

"My name is Mia, what's yours?" she asked, bouncing on Matt's lap. Tim stifled a laugh at the grimace that crossed Matt's face as she tried to stand on his legs.

"I'm Tim," he replied.

"I'm three," Mia said, holding up three fingers.

"Wow. You're a big girl, then," Tim said.

"I am!" she said, nodding.

"Mia, come here," someone shouted from the other room.

"Mia!" she yelled back. "I'm coming!" She slid down Matt's legs, much to his relief, and started to run off.

"What, no goodbye?" Matt called.

She paused, turned and waved at them. "Bye bye!"

Matt laughed. "Oh, that one is a handful."

"Carrie's youngest?" Tim hazarded a guess.

"Yup," Matt said.

"She looks like her mom," Tim nodded.

Matt laughed, then winced. "Ow."

"So, you're a bit sore?" Tim asked, glancing down as Molly sleepily face-planted against his shirt. He shifted her into a more comfortable position against his chest and she sighed contentedly as she fell asleep.

"God, yes. I haven't been this sore since I was twelve and learning how to do fly in the first place," Matt groaned.

"Well, you worked hard," Tim said.

"Seriously," Matt sighed. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something, while I had you here."

"Oh?" Tim asked, raising his eyebrows at his brother. He couldn't say he was entirely surprised. He and Matt should probably really have a talk, but he wasn't going to bring it up if Matt wasn't.

"Yeah. Well, I got a full scholarship offer from the University of Miami last week," Matt said. "And I'd really kind of like to take it, but I wanted to ask you first. I didn't want to…I don't know, horn in on your turf, if you didn't want me to. But Mom and Dad are really kind of emphatic about me leaving New York entirely for school. They said I can go anywhere so long as it's not New York and I can do anything I want, but they'd really rather I didn't study business. Which makes no sense to me, at all. I mean…" Matt trailed off and bit his lip. "I didn't know how to say this, but, well, you know I kinda want the restaurant, right? I mean, you've got first refusal and all, but I didn't…"

"No," Tim said, interrupting him, "I know you want the restaurant. It's all yours, kid. Dad's known that a long time, he should have told you."

"I guess they sort of did, but I wasn't sure," Matt admitted. "So, ok, then, but why do they want me to go so badly?"

Tim sighed and closed his eyes. This was going to take a fair amount of explaining and he wasn't sure if he was up to it, but it was so important that it didn't matter how he felt. "Are you up for a bit of a walk?" he asked, opening his eyes.

Matt looked confused at the apparent change of subject. "Yeah, I can do that. But…"

"I'm going to answer your question," Tim assured him. "I just don't want to do it here in the middle of the house with just about every person we're related to hanging around."

"Ah," Matt said as understanding dawned. "I see."

"Yes," Tim said. "So go tell Mom that we're going to slip out a bit, and see if you can find this one's mom or dad and let them know that I put her down in the Pack'nPlay, ok?" he said, nodding down at the sleeping baby in his lap.

"Sure," Matt said, hauling himself up from the couch. "Meet you by the door."

"Good plan," Tim said, standing up carefully so as not to jostle the baby. He laid her down slowly in the playpen and straightened up with a suppressed sigh that she didn't wake. Well, if you were the youngest of this mass of humanity, you'd have to be used to getting handed off to random people and falling asleep wherever you were, he supposed.

He pulled his parka on as Matt came up to get his own coat. "Mom says dinner is in an hour and a half, so don't go too far."

"We're not going too far," Tim said. "There's something I want to see."

"No problem," Matt said as they walked out of the house.

It was dark already, and the snow crunched under their feet as they walked down the side of the driveway. Neither of them said anything as they walked up to the main road. Tim paused a moment at the corner and nodded to himself. It wasn't too bad out, and it was barely 6 blocks. He turned right and kept going.

A few blocks later, he broke the silence to point at a small apartment building. "We used to live there," he said.

"Yeah?" Matt asked. "I didn't know that."

"Long before you were born. We moved closer to the school when I started kindergarten," Tim said.

"Huh," Matt said.

They fell silent again as they walked another couple of blocks. The church loomed up ahead and Tim turned into the lane beside it to reach the back. And then stopped suddenly as an empty space greeted him, instead of the swingset he'd remembered. "They took out the swings?" he asked, blinking.

"Oh, yeah, last year. They were getting rusty, and they had to come down. They had to pull down the wooden playground, too. We're using this year's diocese money to replace them this summer."

"Oh," Tim said in a small voice. The swings had been what he'd wanted to see. They'd been the first place he'd run away to, and he wanted Matt to understand that.

"We could go inside to talk," Matt suggested, nodding over at the church. "Youth Group doesn't start for another two hours, and there's plenty of places to sit down in the room there."

"Sure," Tim said, since he was starting to shiver. It was colder than he'd thought.

They slipped into the darkened church and down the back staircase. Matt was leading the way, but Tim was half-surprised to realize he knew exactly where everything was. The kitchen, the big meeting room, the smaller rooms for CCD classes, the long hallway lined with choir robes. Everything just the same. The more things were the same, he found, the more comforting it was.

Matt opened the door to a room full of beanbag chairs and ratty couches. "Here we go," he said, flicking on the lights and slumping down onto one of the beanbags. Tim dropped down on another bean bag next to him. "So, then."

"Right," Tim said. "Well, ok, tell me this. How much do you know about what happened with Mom and Dad and me before you came around?"

"More than Mom and Dad probably think, but not enough to really understand," Matt said. "I think it's not that they don't want me to know, though. I think it's that they don't know how to tell me."

"That's exactly it," Tim said, slightly relieved that Matt had figured that part out. "Good. Well, ok, then, I guess I ought to begin at the beginning. Except…well, ok, the beginning is kind of complicated, and I'm sorry if you didn't know, but…"

"I know Mom isn't your mother," Matt interrupted. "It's Marianne."

"Oh, good," Tim said, extremely relieved. That had not been how he'd wanted to start that conversation.

"Yeah, they told me when I was about 10 and overheard someone say something about Dad's first wife," Matt explained.

"I imagine that was a bit disconcerting," Tim said, wondering if Matt also knew that Dad wasn't Mom's first husband, either. He certainly wasn't going to get into that right now, though. It wasn't really relevant to this discussion, since her first husband had been dead for more than thirty years.

"A bit. They said they had been planning to explain it to me at some point, so then was as good as a time as any, though," Matt said. "Anyway, I know that much."

"Do you know what happened with Marianne?" he asked.

"Sort of. She got sick?" Matt asked.

"Yeah. Well, ok, here's the short version," he said. "Dad and Marianne ran away from Syracuse shortly before their senior year of high school. They went to New York, got married and Dad joined the army. He was injured in an accident during a training session about five months after he got out of basic and was medically discharged. They were living in California, since that's where Dad was station, so they decided to try and stay there when he got out. Marianne wound up getting pregnant at about the same time. After I was born, she went into a major post-partum depression and almost killed the both of us. She was eventually admitted to the state hospital, and when that happened, she'd had to sign away her parental rights to me. Dad didn't have very many options, since he had me, so he moved back to Syracuse because Papa said he'd give him a place at the restaurant. It wasn't clear whether Marianne was ever going to get out of the hospital at that point, so Dad came home with me. When Marianne did get out of the hospital, they got divorced because she just couldn't handle things."

"Wow," Matt said. "I didn't know all that."

"Yeah, it's not something that gets talked about a whole lot," Tim said.

"So Mom and Dad met after he came back to Syracuse?" Matt asked.

"No, they've known each other forever. They grew up together. Mom had gone away for awhile, but had come back to Syracuse. She needed something to do, and Dad needed some help, so she started helping out with me. She moved in shortly thereafter, I guess. I don't remember them ever not being together," Tim explained.

Matt was quiet a moment. "Ok, so because they left, they want me to have the chance to leave?" he asked.

"Partly. But mostly it's to do with me," Tim admitted.

"Ahhhh," Matt said. "I kind of thought so. Most things wind up having to do with that eventually."

Tim cringed. "I…I never meant it to be that way."

"I know," Matt said, waving his objections away. "Don't worry about it. So, when you left, you didn't come back."

"No," Tim said. "I didn't. And, well, none of us handled that very well. I certainly could have handled that better."

"How?" Matt asked incredulously. "Tim, I may not really remember all that went down back then, since I was still pretty little, but the impression I've gotten from Mom and Dad and several other people was that you were so messed up that there's no way you could have been thinking straight. It does not sound like you intentionally ran away and didn't call anyone for 18 months, from what I understand."

"Well, there has to have been a better way to have handled it than I did," Tim said.

"Probably," Matt shrugged. "I mean, I'd like to think I wouldn't have done it that way, but who knows? Maybe I would have."

"Mmm," Tim said. "Anyway, Mom and Dad also admit they should have done things differently once I resurfaced. See, the thing is, they kind of forgot what it was like to need to get _out_. They came back, and even though they did that because they were kind of forced to by circumstances, eventually, they were glad they did. They forgot how they wanted to leave in the first place and thought I should come back, too. Problem was, once I'd gotten a bit sorted out, I knew there was no way I could. Not then. Well, not now, either. It wasn't you guys. It was never, ever you, Matt. Never the family. I just…I just didn't fit here, and well, it's better for me not to try," he said, finally. "And you should probably hate me for doing that the way I did."

"I used to be very angry with you," Matt admitted after a moment. "You have to understand, from my point of view, you left, and then all you were good for was making Mom and Dad upset. Anytime they called or you called, there was just a mess."

"Yeah," Tim said. "I was a mess, too."

"Sure, but I didn't know that. And I wasn't quite old enough to figure that out, either. But then, one day I spouted off about you to Lisa- she and George used to look after me, did you know that?"

"Yeah," Tim said, nodding. "I'd figured."

"Ok, well, anyway, I was angry with you and just upset about the whole thing and I said so to Lisa. And well, she just looked at me and said, _Oh, Matt, you have no idea_. Which certainly didn't help matters, but then she said something that really kind of stuck with me. She said, _Matthew, you have to understand that you are the beneficiary of Tim's experience._ And then she explained some things, about how things were really unstable when you were growing up, what with the restaurant and Papa getting sick and Mom and Dad having to help take care of all of Dad's siblings and you skipping grades and always being the youngest and how Mom and Dad were really awfully young when you were born. And that because you guys had lived through all of that, things were a lot better and a lot easier for me when I was a kid. And now, even, really. I didn't understand it at the time, but it stuck with me and I kept thinking about it, and she's right. I got to have a calmer life because you didn't. And then, I got old enough to understand what happened with the accident and when Jason died, and well, I just couldn't be angry anymore," Matt said.

"Oh," Tim said, in a small voice.

"I'm the beneficiary of your experience," Matt said. "It's not fair, and I've got no right to be angry."

"You really do," Tim sighed.

Matt shrugged. "But I don't think I do. And that's really what matters, isn't it?"

Tim nodded. "I suppose it is."

"Well, all right, then. I'm not angry at you. No one is, really," Matt said. "So stop being angry at yourself."

Tim didn't answer him. Matt sighed. "Ok, fine, don't stop, but seriously, none of the rest of us are angry, ok? At least get that through your head, ok?"

"Ok," Tim said. They were quiet a moment. "When the hell did you get to be a grownup?"

Matt laughed. "I don't know. Maybe it's easier to be a grownup about all this since I didn't live it. It's like how when you read history books, you can see the whole situation, when people at the time couldn't. There's a word for that, but I can't think of it right now," he said.

"Perspective," Tim said.

"Yeah, that's it. Perspective," Matt said, nodding. "Anyway, I think I maybe have more of that."

"Entirely possible," Tim sighed. "Anyway, so to answer your original question from way back, no, I don't mind at all if you come to Miami. If that's what you want."

"I think I do. I liked it when we visited. And, well, while I kinda get why they want me to leave now, I'm kinda scared," Matt admitted. "I _like_ it here. I like having everyone around. I don't think I really want to go off somewhere where I don't know _anyone_ at all. That's kinda scary."

"It is," Tim agreed. "It really is."

"So, if I go to Miami, at least you're there. Even if I don't see you all the time," Matt said.

"I'd be there if you needed someone," Tim said, nodding.

"Exactly," Matt agreed.

"It makes perfect sense to me," Tim said.

"Ok, good," Matt said.

Tim's cell phone rang, startling them both. "Hello?" he said, answering it.

"Hey, there," Calleigh said. "I'm told by your mom to inform you that dinner is going on the table in about 15 minutes and she'd really like it if her boys were here when that happens, so I hope you didn't wander too far away."

"No, no, we're not too far," Tim said, scrambling to his feet. He turned and saw Matt's grimace as he tried and failed to get up. "Do you think you might be up to a really short drive? It's like 6 blocks and the roads were clear."

"I think I could do that. Where are you?" she asked.

"The church. St. Anthony of Padua. Go left from the house, then right on the main road, it'll be about 6 blocks up on the left," he said, hauling Matt up to his feet.

"Ok, I'll be there in a few minutes," Calleigh said. "Meet me out front."

"Will do," Tim said, hanging up.

"Calleigh's picking us up?" Matt asked.

"Yeah," Tim said, stretching his arms in front of him.

"She's an angel," Matt sighed.

"I know," Tim nodded.

"I probably shouldn't say this," Matt said, conversationally as they headed up the stairs. "But she really likes you."

Tim didn't answer, instead concentrating hard on the pattern of the linoleum under their feet.

"No, really, Tim. You can tell me to go jump off the bridge, but from what I've seen and heard, interpersonal communication and relationships are not your strongest suit," Matt said, dryly. "And, well, it's clear you like her. And it's clear you haven't exactly told her that. I'm guessing it's because you don't know how, and that's fine and all, but if you're holding back because you're not sure what she thinks, well, let me put your mind at ease on that score. She likes you, but she's probably only going to be patient with you for so long, you know? And I wouldn't want you to miss out on something that could make you happy because you didn't speak up," Matt said.

"I'll…bear it in mind," Tim said, finally as they walked outside.

"Good. You're making it harder than it needs to be, y'know?" Matt said, as Calleigh pulled up across the street.

"I said I'd think about it," Tim said, carefully not putting any real heat behind the words.

"Ok, ok," Matt said, holding his hands up as they walked across the street. "Calleigh, you're fabulous," he said, getting in the car.

She laughed. "Aren't I, though? What were you boys doin'?"

"Talking," Tim shrugged, climbing into the car.

"Well, your mom is ready to go, so we'd better get back," Calleigh said, turning the car around to retrace their route.

When they walked into the house, they were greeted by one the little kids who'd been running around screaming earlier. Tim was fairly sure his name was Jake. "Aunt Melissa says it's dinner time! Come ON!" Jake said, waving his arms at them.

Tim pulled his coat off and studied the small child in front of him. "She said, that, did she?"

"Yeah, she says if we don't come on, it won't be hot and you'll be in trouble," Jake nodded.

"Ah," Tim said. "Well, then I guess I can't get in too much trouble if I do _this_", he said, reaching out to grab up Jake and tickle him, turning him upside down.

"Ahhhh! Mommy!" Jake yelled, laughing hard enough to make it clear he wasn't really protesting. "Tim got me!"

Tim laughed as he carried Jake down the hall to the dining room. All of a sudden, he felt like he was home.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

* * *

I don't know where I am,  
I don't know where I've been,  
But I know where I want to go.

So I thought I'd let you know,  
These things take forever,  
I especially am slow  
But I realize that I need you,  
And I wondered if I could come home

"First Day of My Life," Bright Eyes

* * *

"Ah," Tim sighed as he dropped onto the couch, lifting his feet up onto the coffee table. Cider jumped into his lap. "Did you miss us?" he asked the cat, as he scratched behind her ears.

"I think they did," Calleigh said, plopping down next to him, and reaching out to give Cider a scratch as well.

"Next time we do that, we take the train. I don't care if it takes an extra three days," he mumbled leaning his head back. "Or we can drive. I don't want to see another plane for a very long time."

Calleigh laughed. "But you were such a trooper," she said.

"Mmph." he said. He turned his head to look at her. She was smiling at him as she reached up to let her hair down from the ponytail she'd put it in this morning. "Thank you for going with me," he said, finally.

"Oh, you're welcome. I had a good time. And it was kind of neat to see snow near my birthday," she said.

"Good. I was hoping my family wouldn't scare you too much," he joked.

"I liked your family. There's certainly a lot of them, but they were all very nice," she replied.

"Mmm," he said. They were quiet a moment. He scratched Cider's ears more. Suddenly, before he was even quite aware he was talking, he said, "Everyone thought you were my girlfriend."

Calleigh stiffened almost imperceptibly next to him. "I noticed. I also noticed you didn't exactly correct them," she said, slowly.

He looked at her again. She had a pleasant, slightly welcoming expression on her face, but he could see something that was maybe a bit of stifled hope in her eyes. "You didn't, either."

She shrugged. "I couldn't be sure I was reading them right. They're _your_ family."

"True," he said. He didn't know what to say next. Hell, he didn't know why he'd even brought it up. He opened his mouth and closed it again. He had to say _something_. Matt was right. _But what do I say?_ he thought. Calleigh was beginning to look slightly resigned and he had to fight back a wave of panic and sadness. He was doing that to her. It wasn't fair. And he _did_ want her… "I…I'm…oh, hell," he said. "I'm no good at this," he admitted, finally.

She smiled at him with a raised eyebrow. Her expression had shifted again and was now a mix of exasperation and affection. "Can I help you out?" she asked, moving in closer.

"Um…" he said, unsure of what she meant. He didn't have to wonder long. She ducked in and kissed him soundly.

He froze, startled, but his body took over for his frantic mind and kissed her back before he wrestled himself back and pulled away. "Uh," he said. _Oh, brilliant. Idiot._

She sat back, and looked a bit worried. "I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't…"

"No! No, um. I just…I don't…Uh…" he stammered. "Why!"

"Why what?" she asked, frowning with confusion.

"Why me?" he asked. "I mean, I'm…you're…I don't…you're wonderful and you're smart and beautiful and funny and just, I don't know, great. And I'm well, not. I'm a pain in the ass, and I'm just plain…broken. I don't…you shouldn't…" He stopped suddenly as she put a finger on his mouth.

"Shh," she said, looking like she'd just had an epiphany. "Don't talk a moment."

"Ok," he said, disobeying.

She laughed. "Oh, Tim. I've known you for five years, right?" He nodded. "And we've been friends at least four of those years. I've been _living_ with you for six months."

"I know," he said. "Which is why…"

"No, don't talk," she said, putting her finger back on his lips. "Let me finish. Listen to me." He nodded and she continued. "What I'm trying to tell you is that I know you pretty damn well by now. I'm well aware how much of a pain in the ass you can be, believe me. And I know you're a smart-ass. But I also know you're a voracious reader. I know you can't sit still to save your soul. I know you're brave, you're funny, and you're kind, even when you don't think you are. I know your family. I know you hate winter, even in Miami, and I know why. I know you have more blankets on your bed than any one person in Miami, Florida needs. I even know you hum when you brush your teeth," she said, laughing.

"I do not," he said, half-indignantly.

"Yes, you do, Tim," she said, still laughing a bit. "You hum "This Land is Your Land" while you brush your teeth. I have no idea why, but I've heard you do it many, many times."

"It's so you know you brushed them long enough," he muttered, blushing a bit. "The dentist when I was a kid said that."

She laughed again. "Oh, that's too funny. Now I'm wondering if there's an entire generation of people from Syracuse who hum while they brush their teeth." He squirmed, and folded his arms across his chest. "Ok, well, that's not really the point right now. The point is, I _know_ you. I know all these things about you. And I love you _because_ of them, not in spite of them."

"But…" he said.

"No buts," she said. "I'm not perfect, Tim. I'm stubborn and I'm cheerful even when I know it's annoying. Actually, sometimes I do it just to annoy the hell out of you, because it's funny. I half enable my father when he's drinking. I talk back to my mother. I get prickly at work when people think I can't do my job because I'm this tiny little blond chick. You can't think that I'm perfect, and you can't use that for why you can't say you like me. Because I'm not perfect. And you're not perfect. And I like you plenty anyway. You're just going to have to trust me that you're worth it, ok? Because I think you are completely worth it, and I've always thought that."

"I am?" he asked, looking at her with wide, scared eyes.

"You are entirely worth it. Every minute," she said, putting her hand on his chest. "I believe that with everything I am."

He blinked at her. "I don't know what to say. I'm not very good at this."

"I know," she said, nodding.

"I'm not very good at any of it," he said, half warning her.

"That's ok. We've got all the time in the world to practice," she said. "And I think you can be better at it than you think you are. All of it. You just need to let go and trust me. Can you do that?" she asked.

"I…I think so," he said.

"Good," she said.

This time when she leaned in to kiss him, no one pulled away.

End


End file.
